Here We Go Again
by Insert A Username Here Please
Summary: Blair's life seems to be going well. She's apart of Logan and Kayla's family now, and she has a great boyfriend. But when things start to go wrong, and old enemies return, will her enjoyable life STAY enjoyable? Sequel to Vengeance, Mercy, and Love.
1. Annoying Giant Weasels

Well, welcome to the first chapter of "Here We Go Again", the sequel to "Vengeance, Mercy, and Love." :D

If you have not read that fanfic yet, I suggest you leave this page right now and read it, or some details will not make any sense to you. :p

Warning: This chapter will probably be a bit boring, since it's the beginning and all. (: But try to enjoy it for what it is. :]

PS: Yes, I know the title is very suckish and unoriginal, but I was in a hurry to post. Don't judge me. xD

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the x-men characters or Marvel heroes associated with them, blah, blah, blah, they rightfully belong to Marvel and Fox, blah, blah—and—READ. x]

-

The swimming pool glistened, as it had just been cleaned hours ago. The air smelled of fresh chlorine, and the water rippled as ninth grade students dived into its depths.

However, there was a student among the group who had skipped every, single swimming class to date—and what was that students name?

Blair Colombo.

"Blair," Mrs. Sanders, the swimming teacher, sighed, scratching absentmindedly at her forehead, "you've missed every swimming class. You're going to _fail _this subject."

"Yes…but, Mrs. Sanders," Blair began politely, "I _can _swim, and I don't entirely consider swimming a true _subject_, so why do I have to take it? Besides…I—uh—have my "lady thing" right now."

"You had your period _last _Tuesday, Blair," Mrs. Sanders replied sharply, a slight coat of venom in her voice in expression of the hatred to felt towards being lied to.

"But—but—" Blair began, her face tense.

"Let _me _talk to her," said a male voice from behind Blair.

Danny Fisher came striding up to her and Mrs. Sanders, only in his swim suit, his bright blond hair dripping with water.

"Try to talk some sense into her, Danny," Mrs. Sanders said sweetly. Danny was one of her favorite students—Blair, on the other hand, was one of her least favorites.

Danny gently grabbed Blair's arm and led her to the corner of the room, where they could talk without being overheard.

"Blair," he began, "you've _got _to stop skipping swim class. Seriously—Logan will kick your ass if you fail…especially since all you _really _have to do to pass is _get into the water_."

Blair lowered her tone to a hardly audible whisper. "Danny…," she sighed, "I'm _going _to accidentally slice someone's finger off! They clean that pool each morning! They don't need to do it an extra time to get rid of the blood stains."

"There will be no _finger slicing_," Danny snapped, slightly annoyed, "just be careful and keep your hands to yourself."

"Danny!" Blair exclaimed, raising her voice louder than needed, "I could _kill _someone with these stupid claws." She then raised her right hand, revealing her purple glove, and tore it off. What was different about Blair's hands—was that they had clawed finger nails, not regular ones.

They had been a little souvenir from the mutant who had tried to kill her in the past, Victor Creed. But the strange thing was, the claws should've disappeared _long _ago. But they hadn't.

Victor was Logan's brother—and Logan was her now-legal guardian. Blair had lost most of her family in the past, at the hands of Victor, and her friend, Kira Chloe, had been killed by a man named Stryker.

That left Blair with almost no one—besides her prodigious boyfriend, Danny, and of course Logan and his girlfriend, Kayla Silverfox.

But, thanks to the goodness of Logan and Kayla, Blair now had a home—with them. She called them her "excellently substituted" family.

"Blair…," Danny sighed unsurely, "just _get into the damn pool. _Victor walks around with his stupid claws all the time, and they're three times shaper and longer than yours, and he uses them to kill people because he wants to, not because he "accidentally" does!"

Blair raised one eyebrow irritably. "That _really _gives me a confidence boost, Dan," she said sarcastically, patting Danny on the back in a mocking way.

Just as Danny was about to reply, Mrs. Sanders voice chirped, "Danny, get in the pool, please!" Then her voice lowered into a malevolent tone and she said, "Is _Blair _coming in, or is she going to fake her "lady problems"?"

Danny snickered slightly at Mrs. Sander's choice of words, then cast a disappointed glare at Blair and replied, "I think she'll fake her "lady problems"."

"Daniel Fisher!" Blair snapped, slapping his arm and blushing lightly.

Danny simply smiled and walked over to the pool, plunging head first into it and joining the class.

Blair fitted her purple glove back on her right hand, and took a seat on the bleachers by the pool where all the "non-swimmers" sat until class ended.

**After school; Logan, Kayla, and Blair's home.**

"I'm home!" Blair cheered as she entered her Canadian home, sloppily tossing her backpack onto the couch on her way to the kitchen for an afternoon snack.

Kayla was waiting in the kitchen already. She normally was there when Blair got home at four o'clock, readying dinner. "How was school?" she asked simply.

"Fine," Blair said shortly. Kayla had become a very motherly figure to Blair in the past nine months, as Logan had become a sort of fatherly figure—with a dash of friendship.

"Oh yes," Kayla added, chopping up lettuce for the coming evening's salad, "happy first day of April."

"Only two more months of horrible public school until summertime." Blair shuddered dramatically, and took a bite out of an apple that had been waiting on the kitchen counter.

"It can't be _that _bad," Kayla disagreed.

"It _is_, Kayla," Blair groaned. "And everyone's been asking about my stupid purple gloves _all _year. Oh yeah, and I've officially got a for-no-reason enemy."

Kayla seemed amused by what Blair had just said. "And who might that be?"

"Her name's Meghan Davis. She's one of those blonde-headed bobble heads that you see in high school themed movies—but she's the real deal. Pure evil." Blair nodded robotically and took another bite of her apple.

"Pure evil? What does she do?" Kayla said interestedly.

"Just some rumors. Apparently I'm a "kinky whore"," Blair said sharply, her eyes lighting up with menace.

"A _what_?" Kayla gasped, dropping the knife in her hand and looking appalled.

"But don't worry—that's the worst of it," Blair lied. It most definitely was _not _the worst of it. Meghan would always try her hardest to spread despicable rumors about Blair, but fortunately for her, only a few of them traveled far.

Kayla's appalled expression plummeted slightly, and she picked the knife up off the counter and began chopping up tomatoes. "Any good news to report?" she asked lightly.

"Uhmmm—no. Not really," Blair mumbled, "anyway—where's Logan?"

"He's upstairs, getting changed. He really messed himself up at work. His clothing was covered in wood splinters when he got home," Kayla explained.

Logan had gone back to becoming a lumber jack when he returned from rescuing Kayla, but mostly for lack of a better idea. Blair had suggested that he become a teacher, like Kayla, but he'd said he had enough trouble with _her _on his hands. But Blair had taken that with a grain of salt—and that was a good thing, because Logan had been teasing.

Blair finished her apple, and Kayla diced cucumbers up in silence, until thirty minutes later, when she said, "Blair—got get Logan. Dinner's almost ready."

"Dinner at four-thirty?" Blair said curiously.

Kayla shrugged. "Why not?"

[Danny's POV]

[So, this is Danny's first person POV—and it's the first time I've done first person, so bare with me. (:]

"I've got absolutely _nothing_ to be ashamed of," I said to my mother. My cheeks were burning hot with anger. I was never the type to get so upset, but she was really pushing my tolerability.

"Oh no, Daniel, nothing at all," my mother snorted sarcastically. "You just brought your grandmother to the hospital during the summer, and then left her dead corpse to rot there! And you didn't even tell me, either! _You _thought it would be acceptable to run off with some more of—of _your _kind and try to be a hero!"

"I'm not a _hero, _I just know how to act _heroic _at times," I exclaimed hotly, "I helped save lives, mom. If that's something to be ashamed of—what's something to be proud of?"

"It wasn't your problem, Daniel. I would've preferred if you'd just called me after your grandmother passed," my mother bellowed. Her face was redder than mine, for reasons I couldn't comprehend.

My mother was completely vain and shallow, and I had never realized that until I'd returned from my big "adventure". I'd come home expecting warm embrace; but my mother had just dubbed me a freak and grounded me for the rest of the summer. She'd been so furious that I had left my grandmother's body at the hospital, although I explained to her every time she brought it up that there was a psycho mutant tearing up the hospital at the time. She just didn't seem to understand.

And she just couldn't let it go. For the past nine months, she had complained and groaned about my "irresponsibility" and "foolishness" and how much of a "disgrace" I was.

I was pretty sure she didn't love me as a son anymore.

"Mom," I sighed, calming down my temper, "I'm going to my room."

"Yes, go to your room!" she croaked shrilly, "and you'd better keep thinking about what unforgivable things you've _done_, Daniel!"

"Whatever," I hissed. Then I trudged miserably up the steps and to my room.

I _had_ to clean this place up. It was a total wreck. Dirty clothing was scattered all over the floor, and my closet door was torn half-way off the hinges. Of course, that wasn't my fault. My mom had gotten furious with me at one point, and had decided to take it out on my room. But really, my closet door? She could've thought up something more creative, like putting spiders in my bed, if she'd _really _wanted to piss me off. But tearing my closet door off was just plain annoying.

Thank God Logan didn't let Blair come to my house. He still hated me, although he often times tried to suppress it for Blair's sake…. But, in this case, the no-going-to-Danny's-house-alone-until-you're-a-legal-adult thing helped me, because Blair would think my room was pathetic if she saw it.

Or maybe she wouldn't…she wasn't that shallow. But she'd probably tease me about it until the day I died.

Speaking of Blair, I had to call her. I picked up the phone and pressed talk, to be sure that my mom wasn't on the other line, then dialed Blair's number, praying that Logan wouldn't pick up.

But, of course, he did.

"What do you want?" he snapped, as soon as he picked up.

"Uh, hi…Logan…," I sighed uneasily, "is Blair there?"

"She's—" Logan began hotly, but he was quickly interrupted by a friendlier voice.

"Logan, could you please get off of the phone?" Blair interrupted. She was on the other line.

I heard Logan sigh. "Don't you have to eat dinner?"

"I already did. I _told _you to come to the kitchen for dinner thirty minutes ago. Kayla's going to be mad at you," Blair teased lightly.

Logan sighed again, but heavier. "Fine. I'll get off the line."

"Thank you," Blair said, but her tone sharpened and she added, "and don't harass Danny! He doesn't want to be annoyed by a giant weasel."

"_Wolverine_."

"Logan, wolverines are _in _the weasel family," Blair said matter-of-factly.

That's when the phone made a clicking noise, meaning Logan had hung up.

"Hey Danny," Blair said flirtatiously. "Why'd you call?"

"Hey," I replied smoothly. "I just called to say hi. What are you up to?"

"Nothing. You?"

"Nothing." I hesitated, "Hey, report cards come in the mail in two days…."

Blair's light voice dropped suddenly. "_What_?" she hissed.

"Yeah, how are your grades?" I said anxiously. Blair had been having school troubles all year. She was smart, but she seemed to be sucking in every subject—except Social Studies.

"You _know _I've been having trouble with…everything…," Blair sighed, sounding slightly panicked.

"Not Social Studies," I reminded her perkily.

"Yeah…," Blair said miserably. "Uhm—I'm going to go bang my head against the wall until unconsciousness. I'll call you later."

"Have fun," I said sarcastically. "See you."

"Bye."

_Click. _She hung up.

-

Okay, that was SO boring, and I definitely apologize. But I just wanted to use the first chapter to give you a little insight on how Blair/Danny's lives are now. (:

Please review. :D

PS: Oh yeah, and I'll probably be doing some more individual, first person point of view's from now on. I'm not sure if I'll stay in first person, though—I may jump back and forth from first person to third person. It depends. (:


	2. Missing Orphan

Second chapter. Yayyyayyayyaaayyy. (:

Haha. Enjoy. :p

Remember to reviewww. ;D

_Click. __She hung up._

_-_

[Blair's POV]

My life was officially over.

Seriously—I was failing every subject except Social Studies. So Logan and Kayla weren't my biological parents—that wouldn't stop them from kicking my ass.

What was I going to _tell _them when they received my report card? "Oh, I've been suffering from emotional trauma since last summer—it makes it very hard to concentrate." Ha! Like they'd seriously _buy _that load of garbage.

Or maybe I could…er, tell them that Meghan Davis was really grinding on my nerves, making my emotions do flips and twists—blowing my concentration.

Nah. Too "sob story-ish". They'd never believe me.

Of course, that wouldn't be entirely a lie. Meghan Davis _did _torment me. And she did, on occasion, blow my concentration in class. It was rather hard to focus on a test or quiz with Meghan whispering in my ear, "So—Blair—what's it _like _being an orphan? I've always imagined that it's like being an item at a Thrift Shop—your first owners get done with you, dump you somewhere, and you wait around until another owner comes and _buys _you."

Sure, her insults weren't the best plotted or thought-out—but they still stung a little bit. _She _didn't know that _my _whole family had been murdered—which was the only factor that contributed to my becoming an orphan.

But, I knew inside, no matter how hard my brain tried to trick me, that Logan and Kayla weren't gullible enough to think that a few harsh words from a brat had thrown off all of my grades.

So what was I—

A loud knocking sound echoed from my door, and I flinched instinctively. "Uhmm—yeah?" I said nervously.

"Blair?" It was Kayla.

"What's up?" I called.

"Logan wants to know what plans you have with Danny tomorrow."

I snickered automatically after Kayla's simple words.

I had become accustomed to sneaking out every Saturday afternoon to go out with Danny. I'd gotten away with it without being noticed for two weeks—then Logan had caught on. After all, I couldn't keep up that "I'm-going-to-a-study-group" excuse every week—especially not when you saw my horrid grades.

So, naturally, Logan had kept trying to stop me from meeting Danny—but he'd failed miserably. I always managed to slip through his fingers. I'd become far more clever and stealthy in the past nine months.

Fortunately for me, Logan had given up after a few months of trying to forbid me from seeing Danny alone. Now he simply had Kayla ask me every Friday night what me and Danny had planned for the following afternoon, and I was always pleased to reply.

But this Saturday was different.

"No fancy plans this weekend, Kayla," I said lightly, "Danny's Dad owns a restaurant—and he's been nice enough to offer me a job as a junior hostess, despite my age."

"Oh." Kayla's voice perked up. She didn't mind Danny, but she probably received a lot of pouting from Logan whenever she told him our plans.

I heard Kayla disappear down the hall, the floor creaking under her feet as she went.

But after a few minutes, Logan appeared at my door, prying it open.

"You are _such _a liar," he snorted automatically.

"Ha!" I laughed humorlessly. "You're so…untrusting, Logan." I hesitated. "I'm not lying."

"Oh really?" Logan challenged, "no plans this weekend? A _job _opportunity? At fourteen? At a _restaurant_?"

"Is that so hard to comprehend?" I said mockingly.

"Don't be _smart, _Blair," Logan snarled. "Seriously—a job opportunity? Why would Danny's Dad offer you a job? I thought he hated you?"

I shook my head crisply. "No," I groaned, "that's Danny's _Mom_. His Dad happens to like me—he thinks I'm good for Danny." When Logan seemed to be confused, I added quickly, "Danny's parents are separated, Logan. He lives with his Dad on the weekends—and his Mom on the weekdays."

Now he seemed to be getting it.

"Oh…," he said. He seemed to trust my explanation now. "Fine, I'll take your word for it," he agreed unwillingly, "but you'd better not be _lying_."

I happily placed my hand over my heart, drew a metaphorical cross where it was placed inside my chest, and said sincerely, "I swear to God I'm not, Logan."

Logan, finally taking my word seriously, nodded and trudged out of my room.

"Ugh…stupid weasel…." I worshipped the day in school I'd learned that wolverines were apart of the weasel family—not the wolf family. It had given me a fresh new insult to use against Logan—that was amusing—yet still infuriatingly annoying at the same time.

Absently, I trotted over to my windows and closed the shades, blocking out the too-bright outdoor sunlight. My eyes seemed to trail over to my clock after I was finished, and it told me that it was only 7:30, but I didn't care—I was beat. And I had a big day tomorrow. Danny's Dad—Mr. Fisher—was going to teach me everything about being a junior hostess. Danny already worked at his Dad's restaurant. He didn't have a specified job—he basically did whatever was needed at the spur of the moment. But I was going to greet people as they entered the restaurant. Oh yeah, and I was being paid seven dollars an hour—Danny didn't get squat.

As I changed into my night clothes, my thoughts became jumbled blurs in my mind. I was ready to sleep indefinitely, and as soon as I slid under the warm, comforting blanket of my bed, slumber overtook me, and I was out cold.

**The Next Day**

[Third Person]

"So this is your dad's restaurant?" Blair asked curiously, as Danny placed his arm around her shoulder and they stalked towards a small diner—which was conveniently named, _Dan's Diner._

"Yep," Danny said brightly.

"And he named it after you?" Blair replied, scanning her eyes over the bright, dazzling neon lights that formed the words—Dan's Diner.

Danny laughed out loud. "Oh no," he said, amused, "my dad's name is Daniel, too—hence the name, Dan's Diner. I'm named after him."

"Oh," Blair mumbled absently. She and Danny entered the Diner, hand-in-hand, and immediately noticed Danny's father.

"Mr. Fisher!" Blair called, strutting across the dinner, rushing Danny with her. "It's nice to see you."

"It's nice to see you again too, Blair," Mr. Fisher replied, sounding mildly friendly. "Now—Danny tells me you're interested in that junior hostess opportunity I offered."

"Absolutely," Blair assured perkily. "I'd love it, Mr. Fisher. It's really nice of you to offer me a job."

"It's no trouble at all," Mr. Fisher said, "a friend of Danny's is a friend of mine. Now—let me just explain the roots of the job."

For the next two hours, Mr. Fisher rushed Blair around Dan's Diner, showing her the arrangement of the restaurant.

After those two endless hours, her told her about the job position. He said that her job was to simply greet customers and bring them to their tables.

And he made it very clear and distinct that, no matter how much trouble a customer gives her, they should always get what they want in the end.

"If they request something that is related to the restaurant and is not forbidden by store policy," Mr. Fisher began patiently, wiping the sweat off of his forehead, "it should be doable. Your main goal is to keep the customer happy, Blair. That's the business of hostesses and waitresses."

After four long hours of training, Blair was put to work. She now understood her position entirely, and she waited at the front of the restaurant, greeting customers and bringing them to their tables.

Some of the customers gave her dirty yet peculiar looks as they entered. Their expression usually read; _why the hell is a fourteen-year-old working here_? But Blair ignored the looks, kept a smile plastered onto her face, and thanked God as soon as they were seated at their tables and no longer her responsibility.

However, something unusual happened when Blair was busy with her forty-seventh customer.

"Hello, welcome to Dan's Diner, how many?" Blair asked politely, glancing up at the customers. She noticed automatically that they were frantic-looking cops, and realized that they weren't here to eat. "Uhm…can I help you, officers?"

The bulky, heavily mustached male cop looked at her sternly, and snapped, "Hello, I'm Officer Smith, and we're stopping at businesses across Canada and the USA looking for a runaway orphan. She's been missing for nine months now, and if you have any information on her whereabouts, we'd like to know."

The slender, mousy haired female cop next to him rolled her eyes and said, "Excuse me, miss, we'd like to see the owner of this establishment."

"Yes, of course," Blair said curiously. "But…uhm…I'm just curious…do you have a picture of said orphan?"

"Yes," the female cop responded. She then held up a piece of dirty, torn paper, and brought it close to Blair's face. "The runaways name is Kira Chloe, she's fourteen years old, and she looks like this."

Blair's mouth simply fell open.

--

Ah, sorry that chapter was baddd. xP

I was rushing to finish this up, because I might not be able to post until next Wednesday—I'm going on vacation soon.

So, like I say whenever I think my chapters are bad, "Enjoy it for what it is."

AND REVIEW. :p

PS: Do you like the story better in first person, or third person? :PP


	3. Unfathomed Facts

Heeyyy. Sorry I haven't posted in a bit. I had a chapter half-written, but then my mom got her computer cleaned out and it was deleted. :/

Anyway, enjoy! :D

_Blair's mouth simply fell open._

_-_

"K-Kira Chloe?" Blair stammered, her mouth still hanging open in disbelief.

"Yes," the female police officer said, a little bit of annoyance etched onto her face. "Can we please see the owner?"

"Wait," Blair denied, ruffling her raven black hair uncomfortably. "What orphanage is Kira from? And…do you, uh, have any leads?"

"No," Officer Smith butted in, "and we can't tell you what orphanage she's from. It's classified. Except to people that could be potentially useful in this investigation."

Blair sighed, and took a slow step towards the two officers, her hands on her hips. "_I _might be _useful_," she said irritably.

"I doubt it," Officer Smith said curtly, a slight mocking smile raising his mustache. "You're just a kid."

"Yes," Blair agreed unwillingly, her mud brown eyes narrowing at the ignorant officer. "But I—"

"Excuse me," said a scratchy voice from behind Blair. "Can I help you two officers?"

Blair glanced backwards to see Mr. Fisher, looking a little exasperated. He shot her a warning glance, and looked expectantly at the two police officers.

"Are you the owner of this establishment?" questioned Officer Smith.

"Yes, I'm Dan—Dan Fisher."

"All right," the female stepped in. "Could we speak to you—" her eyes trailed over to Blair for only a moment—"_alone_?"

Mr. Fisher nodded, offered Blair another ominous glance, and led the two officers into the far back of the restaurant.

As the officer's retreated, Blair stood at her post, tapping her foot in suppressed curiosity. Kira had been her friend—it had been a short-lived relationship, but a relationship nonetheless.

But then Blair remembered a key point about Kira—she had an untapped past. She'd resisted answering questions about where she lived, or her family when Blair had asked her. But why?

And now Blair had found out that she was a runaway orphan? Really? What if the officer's had made a mistake? Kira couldn't have been a runaway orphan…no way….

But Blair had seen that picture. That was Kira, all right. That was her face, eyes, and hair. Unless she had a long lost twin—which was especially doubtful.

Before Blair knew it, she'd become so wrapped up in her thoughts that there was an endless line of people, shouting and cursing angrily at her to snap out of her trance.

Blair glanced at the crowd abruptly, her eyes widening. "Er—sorry—" she murmured. She looked at the first person in line, and sighed, "Welcome to Dan's Diner"—she hesitated—"how many?"

**Later; Logan, Kayla, and Blair's home; Dinner time**

"So," Kayla said, breaking the silent barrier that had existed throughout dinner, "how was—er—work with Danny?"

Logan's expression darkened at the sound of Danny's name, but he didn't comment. Blair looked up from her salad, which she had practically buried her face in.

"What?" she said quietly, not catching Kayla's question.

Kayla raised her eyebrows, looking concerned. "How was—was work with Danny?" she said curiously.

"Not bad," Blair said slowly. Then she sighed and pushed her plate away from her. "I'm not hungry." She stood up from the table.

"Hey," Logan called to Blair, as she began trudging to her bedroom. It was the first word he'd said to Blair since she'd gotten home an hour ago.

Blair sighed exasperatedly, stopped in her tracks, and glanced sideways at Logan. "Yeah?"

"What's the matter?"

Blair shook her head. "Nothing," she lied shakily. "I've just got to—to go upstairs and think."

Logan's nose twitched. "'Bout what?"

"Er—homework," Blair lied again, sprinting up the steps before Logan could remark.

-

Blair sat on her bed in her room, her arms huddled around her knees. She couldn't fathom the fact that Kira had been a runaway orphan—and she had no idea why. Why was that so hard to comprehend? What was so difficult about that fact?

_Blair, Kira was a runaway orphan—okay? Okay…_

But Blair just couldn't seem to accept it…. Why hadn't Kira wanted her to know? Why had she run away in the first place?

Blair remembered the first time she'd met Kira—after she'd had a spasm attack and collapsed, then when she'd become conscious again, Danny had noticed a pair of bright yellow eyes in the bushes—which, in truth, had turned out to be an amber color, not yellow.

Fortunately for Blair, she had a curiously accurate memory (she always thought it had something to do with her perplexing powers)—and could remember what Kira had said word for word—the very first time they came across each other.

"_**It's not that far—by foot it'll take about two days to walk there, and then you'll have to find a way to cross the water and actually get onto the island. I could help you with that, if you'd like. My or—I mean, my **__**parents**__** own a boat. It's docked not too far from the island."**_

_My or—I mean, my parents own a boat._

She had almost said orphanage….

Blair buried her face in her pillow, and tossed her fuzzy purple covers over her head, blocking out the sounds, sights, and smells of the world.

Unfortunately, she couldn't escape her thoughts—

Which is why it took three hours to drift asleep.

**Monday Morning; 7:45 AM, fifteen minutes before classes begin**

"Arrgghh," Blair moaned, slamming her head violently against her locker. "I. Hate. School—especially Mondays."

Danny held back a fit of snickering, and tore Blair's head away from her locker. "Blair—don't hurt yourself."

"Maybe if I do—I could go to the nurse's office, and get out of class for the next few days." She faked a smirk and glanced at Danny curiously. "What do you think, Dan?"

"I doubt the nurse would fall for it—let alone Logan," Danny teased. "He'd probably make you home school for the days you were out."

"But what if I _really _hurt myself?" Blair joked, nudging Danny's shoulder. "Seriously—this locker could do some damage."

Danny couldn't help but to chuckle. "Masochistic much?"

Blair shrugged innocently. "Only slightly."

"Oh Blair—willing to hurt yourself to escape your awful grades? Tsk, tsk—maybe you should see a therapist," said a drawling, preppy voice from behind Danny.

Blair knew the voice well. She knew she should've ignored it—but she was too stubborn to allow herself to.

Sighing, Blair glanced over Danny's shoulder, and faced the disturbance.

"What the hell do you want, Meghan?"

-

Wootttt.

Reviewww. :D


End file.
